iPoem · 5186.2370.743.88 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

Based on Raymond Queneau’s A Hundred Thousand Billion Poems, The 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem is a non-commercial artistic project inspired by Queneau’s work and the tradition of literary variation it inaugurated.
→ iPoem 5186.2370.743.88 (no. 806,523) was generated on November 6, 2026 at 11:22 pm
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